


The Warrior Scholar

by Tasebi



Category: Ancient Egyptian Religion, Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 22:16:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6257926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasebi/pseuds/Tasebi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when the merriment loving God of Magic, a Warrior Healer, a Defender God, and the Mistress of Magic get together and decide to take an interest in a mortal?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**The Myth of Sekhment**

 

And so, it came to pass that man had so offended Re with their jibes, mockery, and evil deeds that he called together a tribunal of all the Gods he had created and spoke to them.

“Eldest of the gods, you who made me, and you whom I have made: look upon mankind who came into being at the glance of my Eye. See how men plot against me! Hear what they say of me! Tell me what I should do to them. For I will not destroy them until I have heard what you advise.”

“As they came into being at the glance of your Eye, so to shall you know vengeance by it! Send your Eye against them in the form of Sekhmet!” cried all the other gods and goddesses, bowing before Re until their foreheads touched the ground.

As he plucked out his left eye it took the form of a fierce woman with the head of a lion and she set forth to punish mankind for their transgressions.

Her slaughter continued for many nights and she reveled in it. As mankind called out for mercy, Re's heart was stirred, but he could not call Sekhmet back for the joy of the hunt had made her bloodthirsty.

As he had once before, Re called forth a tribunal, this time seeking advice on how to reign in his daughter before all of mankind was destroyed. A deep voice spoke from his side, “Leave it unto me”

With but a word 7000 barrels of barley beer was flooded into a field and stained red with the juice of pomegranates. Upon seeing it Sekhment let out a roar of victory for she believed it to be blood and drank herself into a stupor.

Upon waking, her blood-lust sated, her shame fell hard and she she hid herself in a cave. For three days the sun did not rise and men called out once again to Re for mercy.

Re turned to the ebony skinned, ibis headed god and spoke “You told me to leave it to you. The job is but half done.”

The god bowed saying “It shall be done.” and turned to leave, a sly smile on his face. Once again, he had everything where he wanted it.

 

**The Silver Tongued Trickster**

 

The person standing outside the cave mouth managed to look bored and wary at the same time. He was tall, standing near to seven feet tall. He had a lean and well muscled build with ebony skin and was clad only in a linen kilt bound about his waist. The ibis head on his shoulders seemed to be cocked and listening while his eyes stared unblinking, towards the entrance of the cave. He was leaning against the stone careful not to get to close to the mouth. He damn near lost a few feathers the last time he provoked her.

“Just how long are you going to sit in there and sulk?” he asked in a droll baritone.

A snarl was the reply.

 _She's certainly in a fine mood_. He thought, smiling. _That hangover must be hell_.

He sat out a blanket, some dishes of meats and cheeses, and built a small fire. “I'll be right here. I've some food and will be making some tea. Should you wish to join me, I've a proposition for you.”

The snarl came again, but there was less force behind it and it definitely sounded closer.

He continued, unphased. “You're really quite impressive you know. Your skill in the martial arenas are second to none.” It was a small lie, he reassured himself, one she was likely to miss. “I think we have other uses for your power. One that will have legions of mankind flocking to follow you, rather than just seeking to placate you.”

His movements were precise. It was the practiced patience of a man who knew how to play cat and mouse with a very dangerous mouse.

“Speak Thoth. And pray Set did not just hear your transgressions.” came a gruff, pained reply from the mouth of the cave.

The woman who stepped out was beautiful and had an aura of power. She was clad in a leather tunic reinforced with bronze plates. With each step she took out of the cave mouth, the sun rose higher. Her tawny skin and armor positively glowed, reflecting the rays. She turned her lions head with full mane to the rising sun and squinted before looking back to the god before her.

Thoth looked up and smiled winningly at her. “Ah, my sweet battle-maiden. Do you really think the defender of the sky barque to be so vain he couldn't admire your prowess? Come. Join me. Surely you're hungry and I've made tea.” As she opened her mouth to speak he raised his hand “I promise, it's not pomegranate.”

Sekhmet chuckled lightly ignoring the pounding in her skull. She was hungry and likely food and drink would at least ease her suffering. “I don't think I want to see another pomegranate for a few centuries.” She looked at him and narrowed her eyes into slits. “That was _ _your__ doing, wasn't it?”

Thoth placed his hand over his heart and bowed with a smile and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Ever at your service, m'lady.”

Sekhmet sat down on the blanket with a derisive snort. “You're at no one's service but your own Thoth.”

His expression changed to mock horror. “You wound me! That's not so! For I've served your father twice in three days. It was at his request I” he paused as if considering his next words, “tempered, your enthusiastic spree.” His mischievous smile returned. “And it is at his bequeath that I am here with you now.” He served the tea and reached for his cup, gingerly sipping as if to test it. He nodded to himself in silent approval before looking back at the lioness sitting across from him.

Sekhmet sipped her tea. The warmth spread through her and the tightness in her skull eased. She let out a sigh of relief and appreciation, bowing her head to him in acknowledgment and thanks.

“If I did not know how well you served and love my father, I would question your motives. But I'm certain you've capitalized on this whole thing for your own ends, and amusement. What is your game, baboon?”

He smiled. He had her. Cats were curious after all and he had dangled just enough treats to hook her. This might work after all.

He reached out and served her a small plate of the delicacies that were set out. “What do you think about healing?” Sekhmet's eyes went wide in surprise. He had her. Hook, line and sinker.

 

 


	2. Some things don't go as planned

The warrior stood at the bow of the sky barque and his fist clenched around the spear in his left hand, as he glared back at the serpent dissolving into chaotic coils. Another night, another battle won.

He cut an imposing figure. The embodiment of a desert warrior. Well muscled, fighter build and clad in a linen kilt, eschewing the bronze plates in the name of “challenge”. His head resembled that of a jackal. Eyes, bright and alert scanned for any additional threats while his squared off ears twitched, listening.

His right shoulder throbbed something fierce. Apep almost did real damage tonight. When he tried to roll his shoulder, pain lanced through it. He grimaced. He'll be fine by nightfall. His nephew needed him.

As he turned, he felt a warm hand on his good shoulder and a gentle voice with an undercurrent of command,“Sit.”

He turned and cocked an eye at the lion headded goddess who appeared beside him. “Sekhmet! I could have used your help tonight!”

She snorted. “You would have taken it as an affront if I had helped in the battle and I am helping you now. Sit.” She replied.

He did as he was told and she quickly started to tend his shoulder. Her ministrations were gentle, but thorough. It was hard to believe that this was the goddess that once almost obliterated mankind for their transgressions against Re. Over the past few hundred years, she had changed the focus and now waged wars on a much smaller battlefield, that of the body. She was the patron deity of healing, doctors and caretakers now. The fevers that afflicted the sick were said to be her blessing, her power fighting the demon that was the illness.

“You've become quite adept at this healing thing.”

“I ought to have, I've worked hard to become so.” she smirked as she finished bandaging up the wound. “It's one thing to kill a battle field full of foes indiscriminately. It's quite another to selectively eliminate only the enemy among the allies.” Sekhmet patted Set on the good shoulder. “You'll be fine in a few hours.”

Set recalled it was a conversation with Thoth that started her interest in healing. He had wondered what Thoth said to convince The Lady of the Bloodbath to turn her attentions away from the battlefield. But she'd remained tight lipped. Set hadn't been any luckier trying to pry the information out of Thoth. The last time he tried, Thoth challenged him to a poker game with “once piece of information” for each win Set could rack up. A fool's bargain. The last time _any_ god played Thoth in poker, Re lost and five days were added to the calendar.

Recently, Sekhmet and Thoth had been seen coming and going together far more frequently and his curiosity was just getting unbearable. Today's deliberate injury was a calculated risk, but it had paid off and now he could finally figure out what was going on.

As Sekhmet started to clean up around them, Set decided it was now or never.

“Alright. Spill it.” He spoke in a low whisper “No one is around and you've got to tell me what is going on.”

Sekhmet marveled that her hands neither stumbled nor did her voice crack when she spoke. “I'm quite certain, I've no idea what you're talking about.”

Set snorted. “Like hell. I know you and Thoth are up to something. I want in or I’ll start another fight with Horus just to get Isis riled up. Then your little secret party is bound to get sidelined, at the very least, while you play clean up.”

Sekhmet glared, her eyes narrowed. Her voice came out as a growl. “You wouldn't dare.”

Set shrugged, trying for an air of indifference. “Try me. I'm bored and you know how bad that is for business.”

“If you're so bored, try practicing more. Maybe then I wouldn't have to fix your shoulder because you got sloppy.” she retorted.

He continued to stare with an absolutely unreadable expression on his face. She blinked first.

“Fine! What if you're not interested once you learn about it? What if it's boring? What if it's not worth your time?” she asked, exasperated.

Set grinned “Then I'll leave.”

Sekhment sighed and mumbled under her breath. “This is going to be trouble.”

*************************************************************************

Sekhmet and Set walked into the pavilion Thoth enjoyed so much. The pavillion itself was cream marble that seemed to flow together. The covered walkway and it's pillars were made of the same marble. It was richly furnished with low divans, thick rugs and mountains of pillows. It screamed of elegance and indulgence. In the center there was a round table with food and tea set out.

Thoth looked up as they approached. He managed to hide a chuckle. Set looked so out of place. “You can take the warrior out of the battle field...” and he let the thought trail off. That bandage was new. Thoth idly wondered if Apep had actually gotten that good, or if something was troubling the god of storms and thunder.

As they moved forward Sekhmet looked resigned and Set's ears were twitching listening for threats – real or imagined.

A sweet breeze blew through the pavilion and Thoth narrowed his eyes. _Hrm,_ _t_ _his was unexpected._ He thought. _Ah well, play the cards you're dealt_. His little project was about to become quite the chimera.

Sekhmet's voice broke his reverie. “Why do you have this place? It makes no sense. Who puts rugs and pillows outside? Man reveres you as the god of knowledge and scribes. They place you in learned halls and music chambers. This is” she paused looking at the blatant extravagance “neither.”

“It amuses me.” Thoth answered simply. “It need not make sense. It need only serve a purpose. This one serves as my amusement. Come. Sit. Tea is ready.”

She walked forward and gestured with a thumb over her shoulder. “His royal highness, the trouble maker, insisted on coming.”

“Oh absolutely. Though I did wonder what took him so long.” Thoth replied, pouring the tea.

Set scratched his head, looked at the floor and started stammering. “Well, it was tough finding a minute where Sekhmet could feel like she could talk, and then I had to find the perfect counter threat because I knew that she wouldn't tell me out…. Hey! Wait a minute! You expected me?”

Thoth stared unblinking at Set. “Of course.” he lied smoothly “Although, you would do well to remember that calling on another god also alerts them to your conversation. While you're unmatched on the battlefield Set, you're no match for the mistress of magic in a battle of wits.”

Thoth glanced at one of the large pillars around the pavilion. “Come in Isis. Eavesdropping is rude and we require your help as well.”

Set 's shoulders tensed as he turned to watch the woman step from behind the pillar. Her royal bearing was evident in the way she carried herself. Her linen tunic was elegantly pleated and embroidered. The cloak about her shoulders resembled brightly colored feathers. Her ebony hair fell in braids to her shoulders. When she spoke, her voice carried with it a great tenderness and wisdom.

“Well, well, well. If the players aren't all assembled. This is quite the motley crew you have brought together Thoth. What are you up to?”

Looking back to Set, Thoth grumbled. “It's a good thing you didn't call the arbiter of the gods. We'd be in a real pickle then.”

As the four gathered around the table, Thoth started “Let me tell you about our little project….”

 


	3. The Chimera's Gifts

"You can't be serious!" Isis's eyes went wide in disbelief as the four of them sat around drinking tea and planning. 

Thoth's trademark deadpan stare betrayed nothing. 

Her expression became even more incredulous "In the name of.." Thoth held up a hand quickly cutting her off. "Don't. Just don't." He took a breath and let the silence settle before he continued. "I most certainly am serious. And please, it's tough enough getting things going with four of us working. If we start adding more medd..." he coughed softly "interested parties, we're going to get too complicated to make any progress."

"But to what end, Thoth? For what purpose? One does not just take an interest in a mortal, nay, what you are suggesting is more taking a hand in their  _creation_ , without a purpose. Doing it 'for amusement' is irresponsible and nigh on reprehensible. We will have a responsibility to this entity. We cannot just create and release. What it does, it does in our name, in our image!" Isis was agitated. It was almost as bad as she had been at the trial between Set and Horus. 

Set took a breath and looked around. "Thoth, I know you are not one to embark on this sort of thing without a plan. You don't get out of bed without a plan, but you need to help us understand that plan. Isis is right. Doing this means we are bestowing this thing ..."

"Girl" Thoth's patient and low voice cut in calmly.

Set's eyes went wide and his mouth opened and closed a few times before sound found it's way out again "I'm sorry?"

Thoth sighed in a rare show of exasperation. "Not 'entity' or "thing". It will be a girl. A human girl."

Set rolled his eyes in an expression that carried his whole head with it. "Seriously Thoth? a  _girl_?" Sekhmet chuckled earning her a glare from both Set and Aset.

"Look," Sekhmet cut in "We all know that Thoth wouldn't do something like this without a plan. We don't exactly know what this plan is, but if he's gotten invested enough to ask me to help, this is not something fleeting. If he's planning on actually creating something, we're looking at centuries before it comes to fruition. That's how he works." She turns from Isis and Set to look at Thoth before continuing. "But you have to trust us and understand why we are uncomfortable. you have to let us in at least a little, Thoth."

Thoth looked at each of them and sighed before putting his tea cup down and standing. He walked to the edge of the marble floor and stared out into the gardens around. Taking a deep breath he clasped his hands behind his back and looked over his shoulder. "You're really not going to like what I have to say."

The three gods stared back at him unblinking and silent. Like it or not, they were not going to let him off without at least some sort of information on what he had planned and why. He sighed again and turned around "I don't know why this needs to be done. I've nothing concrete. It's just a ... feeling. Something is off and there is nothing that we can do about it. I," he paused "no,  _we_ need to do this. While I didn't plan on the way things worked out. I've no doubt that this is exactly who needs to be involved. I know that with the same certainty that I know we are going to have an invested interest in a human girl. She is going to be willful. She is going to try my patience to no end, but she is needed." He looked at each of them in turn. "But for what," he shrugged with an expression that was frustration and helpless all at once "I don't know. And that bothers me more than anything."

There was a prolonged silence before Set let out a low whistle. He leveled a stare at Thoth and asked "If you don't know, are you sure this human girl can handle it?"

Thoth smiled "That's where we come in. With our gifts and guidance, we can only arm her with what she needs to succeed."

The sound of china clinking had everyone looking at Sekhmet. "There is something we need to consider as well. Our creation or not. Vested interest or not. This child has free will. It is possible we will put our effort into this endeavor for naught."

Thoth chuckled bitterly and Sekhmet quirked a brow in response. "She does reject us? You've seen this?"

Thoth smiled and shook his head, "Oh no, my dear. I've seen some things. She is willful, yes. She is enamoured with many things and she rejects many others. She doesn't agree with the doctrine that explains Isis and Set." The two gods share a glance before turning back to Thoth. Meanwhile he had continued "She is enamored with you Sekhmet, and your sister..." He fell silent

"And you?" Isis asked the question that hung in the air.

He grinned ruefully, sorrow coloring his tone "She has a unique, if somewhat astute, impression of me. But above all, I am her father, with all that entails." He turns his gaze back to the setting sun.

 

**Bestowing the Blessings**

It was a brilliant sunrise, just after the skybarque had risen. The four gods found themselves meeting again at the infamous cave that Sekhmet had called home for three days. There, over clay from the Nile each came to bestow blessings on this child who had a mission none of them could fathom. Each blessing came with a cost. There had to be balance.

Sekhmet bestowed healing. The child would be able to heal herself and others. The cost was empathy. She would feel the pain of others. If she chose to heal others, she would take the illness herself. 

Isis bestowed magic. Both the knowledge and curiosity in it as well as the ability to perform it. The cost was the ability to learn it in the traditional sense. The "path" wouldn't make sense. Any attempt to learn the "proper way" of doing things would just lead to confusion forcing the child to stumble onto answers through coincidence.

Thoth bestowed curiosity, a deductive mind. She would not be able to take things at face value and would need to investigate. She would be a scholar. The cost was her belief in anything that couldn't be explained. 

The other gods looked at him and he just shook his head. "She needs to find us and accept us on her own. This is written."

Set smiled and walked forward. He looked at his hands and a small ball of light formed before floating to the small form taking shape in the clay. His smile was gentle, loving. "She will love the outcast. She will defend the victimized." He looked at Thoth and Sekhmet "You have taught her to think. You have given her compassion. Isis has given her the ability to use that which cannot be explained." He looked at the small child shape and gently ran his hand over her head. "You have frustrated and confused her to no end. When it gets too much for her to bear, when she is frustrated and needs to rage, she will call me." Set's glare at Thoth spoke volumes.

"You are her father. I am her uncle. My gift to her is will. She will be a warrior." 

He turned on his heel and made to leave the cave

Isis called out to him "Wait! What is the drawback to your gift?"

Set looked over his shoulder and chuckled with a sad look in his eyes. "You've dealt with me! Why should she be the only one to pay a price for her existence? I am the reason she is headstrong and will frustrate the hell out of all of us. You're welcome." 

They all stare as he walks away.


	4. It all started when....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> intro to the chimera

I pushed open the “Haute Coffee” and the smell of roasted beans and pastries hit me right away. The coffee shop wasn’t pretentious, it was comfortable. There were the typical booths and tables in rich, warm wood tones, but it was the people who worked there, especially the owner, who made the whole thing feel like home.

Susan McCarthy is the type of girl that had to have been the captain of the cheerleading squad in high school. She's trim, pretty, blonde and has a smile that will light up the room. Unfailingly charismatic, she's perfect for a job like this. Every one of her customers feel like they have her undivided attention even when she's busy. The shop was normally “comfortably busy” and today was no different.

"Clara!" a bright smile crosses the barista's face. "How's my favorite titan?"

"Heya Suz! Ugh! How many times do I have to remind you titans _lost_ the war? Can I have a coffee? Extra hot?"

Suz chuckles. “Well if you’d stop trying to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, maybe I’d stop calling you a titan!”

She hands me my coffee and flashes me a smile. "What's on the schedule today?"

“Same old, same old” I replied. “A few personal sessions, nutrition classes in the community center and if I’m not wrong, we’re wrapping up the food drive for the local pantry this week.”

I gratefully take a sip of coffee. "What's new with you?" 

"Nothing much. Oh hey! Did you see? There's a new book store opening up soon. Right here in the plaza.”

“Yea, I saw something about it but I’ve been so busy I’ve not been able to look into it much. I wanted to see if it was a chain store or if they were one of us.” Suz and I were both small business owners. We formed a sort of a welcoming committee when new small business owners come into the plaza.

“I think they are” She replied.” The name doesn’t sound like a chain store. I know it's something you'd appreciate. Give me a minute I'll get the flyer. Oh! Here it is!" She hands me a flyer that reads "The Library of Alexandria".

I choke out a laugh. "Are you serious? Someone actually named a bookstore this? I don't know whether to be offended or amazed."

Suz's beaming smile answers me. "I knew you'd appreciate it! I've not met the owner yet, but we can’t leave him out in the cold." 

My eyebrows went up "Did you already volunteer us?”

“Not yet” she grinned. “But you can bet your bottom dollar I will when I meet him!”

I smile back at her "Deal. Keep me informed. We have to welcome them to the neighborhood!" I glance at the clock. "Shit! Gotta go Suz! Thanks for the coffee!"

"Anytime dear! I'll call you!" 

I sling my backpack over my shoulder, hot coffee in hand and put my back to the door to open it outward when all of a sudden, the door that was supporting me disappears. My eyes go wide and I feel like I'm falling for a second before I feel a hand on my arm steadying me. 

"You ok miss?" The voice is a baritone and smooth as velvet. The owner of the voice, and the hand supporting me, is no less impressive. He's tall, standing 6'5" if I'm gauging right, has broad shoulders and is dressed in a well-tailored three-piece suit. He's a dark skinned black man and has eyes just as dark. He smiles as I meet his eyes and his smile is dazzling. You get him an Suz in the same room and I think they could dim the sun!

"Huh? Oh yea! I'm sorry. I didn't get coffee on you, did I?" I ask while mentally adding  _smooth recovery, really smooth recovery._

"No. I'm fine. Thank you though." 

"Oh. Ok. Cool. Sorry to be rude. Gotta go!" I dash under his arm and head over my office to prepare for my first client.

They man's eyes follow Clara. As she reaches her storefront he steps into the coffee shop smiling at the barista, "Hello, I'm Theo. I own the bookstore that will be opening. Do you happen to have any tea?"

 ******************************************************************************************************

I flip the lock on the door to Net's Waters as I hit the lights. The office lights up in floods of greens, blues and pale cream trim. The colors are meant to soothe and relax. To take a break from the hecticness that is the outside world. The front desk and seating area invite people to sit and chat. 

I unceremoniously dump my bag into my office chair and glance at my desk calendar quickly. I have an hour before my first client. 

My name is Clara Deveroux. People tend to have various opinions of me if they've never met me. They apparently expect some statuesque, power suit wearing, severe person with well manicured nails. That's probably why people are so surprised when they finally meet me. 

I really just look like anyone else. Just over five and a half feet tall with long curly black hair that I normally keep in a braid. Officially I'm a Licensed Independent Clinical Social Worker. I run Net's Waters as my private practice and a bit of a social services hub. Unofficially, I'm the city's worst kept secret. Most everyone has heard my name. 

If people need an introduction, or want information, they come to me. Because of my little shop, I've met quite a few people in the city and maintain relationships with all of them. It's just what I do. I don't know how to do everything, but I likely know someone who can help. I make it my mission to connect people who can make things happen.

Like it or not, who you know is more important that what you know. I learned and have developed that game to an artform. 

As I take one last look around the office, I smile and I flip the lock. The person on the other side is in a heavy coat, but if you look closely you can see it's frayed edges and the tired circles around her eyes. 

"Grace!" I say flashing her a bright smile and greeting her like an old friend. "It's been so long. I was just about to call you!" 

I put my arm around her shoulders and lead her back to my office. For better or worse, this is who I am and what I do. I look for and help those who are on the edges. I can't save them all, but I can help those who are trying to save themselves. 


	5. Meeting Theo

A few days later I'm between clients when I get a get a text notification

"Hey! Clients/classes tonight? No. right? You're free?"

I toss back a two word reply "Yup. Free."

The reply takes no time at all to come back. "Coffee Shop. 7pm. Be prepared to work. Don't worry about dinner. It's on the new guy!"

I laugh out loud. Leave it to Suz to meet the new owner and get him to pony up for dinner. 

I stroll into Haut Coffee with 20 minutes to spare. Suz is sitting in a back booth with her laptop open. I walk over and slide into the booth. 

"Alright, what is this going to cost me?"

She pushes a coffee to me and grins, mischief clear in her eyes. "Nothing you're not capable of. Though I might have played you up a bit."

"Uh huh. I had guessed. What did you tell him? I was Hercules? He's going to be disappointed when he sees me." 

She laughed. "Nah. He's already met you. Though we did have a long conversation about 'Net's Waters'."

I turn my head to the side and give her a questioning look. 

"He appreciated the 'Create Yourself'. Apparently he shares our particular brand of humor."

I chuckle. I've never been one to care much about gods, fairies, elves, titans or anything else. But when I was thinking about naming my business, I realized that most of us feel we are the victim of circumstance or our birth. Those who tend to meet me have always been looking to change that. It didn't matter their social station. Net, or Neith, was the prime creator goddess of Egypt. She was a warrior, a hunter and an arbiter. The name just made sense.

I let out a derisive snort and take a sip of my coffee. "Ok. Well, then I guess he has me at a disadvantage then. When did we meet?"

A baritone voice answers from just over my shoulder. "You asked me if you had spilled coffee on me."

I look up, smile and scoot over in the booth to give him a spot to sit down.

"Sorry, I was in a bit of a hurry that day. Thank you for catching me. I'm not normally that graceless."

He slides into the booth maintaining a friendly distance. "So your friend here tells me. Hi, I'm Theo. I understand you like the name of my bookstore."

That starts an evening of companionable conversation, Chinese food delivered to the skeleton of a new store and a bunch of unpacking. Almost all of the books are new age-y in nature. Even those which are less fantastic have to deal with myths, legends and gods in some form or another. 

We stop for a break close to 11. I stack a few boxes with books still in them and make a pillow out of my hoodie. Playfully tapping Suz on the shoulder "I tap out chief. Wake me in 15. I still have to drive home." 

"Wimp! You have the day off tomorrow!"

"I was up at 3:30" I retort

Theo smiles ruefully at our back and forth and hands us each a cold bottle of water. "Well, you've now officially made me feel bad for pressing you into service in exchange for dinner."

Suz flashes him a lopsided smile. "Don't listen to her. She just likes having people feel sorry for her."

I stick my tongue out at her before taking a grateful drink of the water. 

"Theo, do you really plan on opening a bookstore that covers nothing but new age, religion and myths?" I ask, genuinely curious.

He looks at me with an impassive, but not unfriendly stare for a moment. "Indeed. I do. You'd be amazed how many people are interested in gods, goddesses, their myths and legends. Those who want to harness their powers and attributes."

I glance automatically at the stack of books on wicca and new age religion. "No I wouldn't. I really wouldn't." I shake my head and take another drink of water.

Theo turns, half curious and half amused. "But you are not one of them, are you? You who run Net's Waters. Who understands the myths and legends of the titans. You're not interested at all, are you?" There is something more to that question, as if he is puzzling out how this dichotomy can exist. 

I hear Suz's snort. "Now you've done it. you shouldn't have gotten her started."

I meet his gaze and shake my head. "No. I'm not."

The next question takes me by complete surprise. "What do you think of the gods, Ms. Deveroux?"

No one's ever asked me that before. Most certainly not in the sincere way he just did. My answer comes without pretense. "Man seems to like excuses. Excuses for why they can or cannot achieve something or another. Evil gods are simply attributes man doesn't want to take responsibility for. Noble gods are attributes man likes to believe beyond their grasp. Gods are convenient excuses for the weakness of humanity. I pity the gods of myth and legend. And please, call me Clara."

He holds my gaze a moment longer before giving a sad smile and looking at Suz. "And yet you run a business based on myth and have Suzan as a friend." 

I look at Suz and smile too. I know well that she and I are polar opposites in so many ways. She's devoted to her beliefs and faith. But she's never begrudged me my stance and I respect her rights to hers. We manage to be friends and share a mutual respect despite our difference in beliefs. She and I raise our water bottles in a silent salute to one another. 

"I wouldn't have it any other way" we say simultaneously.


	6. Time marches on

The following weeks were much the same. Suz and I would spend any spare time we could helping Theo put together his bookstore.

In the end the bookstore was pretty impressive. The top floor was set up like a library, with places to sit and read or do research. A large selection of books were up here. Each pantheon or religious system had it's own section that was organized by author. The main floor was the shop with things that I had come to consider typical in these types of stores. There were wands, blunt knives, stones, jewelry and clothing. The basement was kind of a community center. He already had tarot readers and local covens scheduling meetings, selling services and holding community events there. 

Carefully hidden on either side of the main entrance to the store, there were two huge statues. I'm not sure how he managed it, but they seemed to blend into the surroundings well enough that they seemed almost painted onto the front wall rather than being statues. At first glance they looked similar, but if you actually looked at them, the differences were obvious. While both of them had human bodies clad in some kind of linen kilt, one of them looked to have more of a wolf head while the other seemed to have more of a jackal head with odd, squared off ears. They each had an arm outstretched with palm facing out as if they were trying to give each other some sort of high five. Or as if they were creating an archway between them. 

My curiosity finally got the best of me one day and I found time to ask. "Hey Theo"

"Hrm?" His eyes twinkled. I swear he knew what I was going to ask. 

I gestured with my chin "Who are they?"

"What makes you think they represent any one person?"

"Uh uh" I shake my head popping open my water bottle and taking a sip "Not any person. God. Who are they?"

"The question stands, Clara. What makes you think they represent any one god?"

I studied him for a few minutes. I pride myself on my ability to read people and catalogue their quirks.

"Because you're methodical. You plan. Everything to a purpose. Everything to its place. You don't get out of bed in the morning without a plan, Theo. So," I meet his eyes with a challenge and a smile and repeat my question. "Who. Are. They?"

I'd've missed it if I hadn't have been studying his reaction. Theo's eyes went wide for a moment and he gave me an incredulous look and replied slowly.

"Wapwawet and Setekh." When I tilted my head to the side in question he elaborated. "You might know them as Ophois, the opener of ways and Set, the god of thunder and storms"

I let out a non-committal grunt and squinted at the statue of Set. "The opener of ways I can understand. It makes sense in placement as well as a business owner. We all want ways opened. But what aren't you telling me about the other?"

Theo blinked. Twice. I quirked a brow. Managing to throw Theo for a loop twice in one day is like winning the lottery. 

"He's the defender of the Sky Barque. He's the only one strong enough to defeat the primordial chaos that is Apep." His slow, stunned explanation gives way to a half smile. "You know, if you believe that sort of thing."

"Ah so." I look over again at the statues and smile. "Now  _that_ makes sense"

It's Theo's turn to quirk a brow and wait for an answer. 

I shrug. "Who wouldn't want to protect that way they are looking to have opened? This particular path is unpredictable, chaotic. If you believe in someone like him, why wouldn't you want him with you?"

Theo seems to consider it for a moment before looking at me. I don't think I ever truly appreciated the phrase "being pinned by a stare" but there was something in his eyes and I knew that I would not be able to move if the building crumbled around us. We stood there for what seemed to be an eternity and I swear his eyes were black. Not just dark chocolate brown, but black. When he spoke, it was like his voice was coming from everywhere and in my own head at the same time. 

"Clara, why do you care?" The slow question held no scorn or anger. There might have been a little curiosity. Something about the question, and the situation, had the flippant answer I was going to give dying on my tongue. When I answered, I hardly recognized my own voice.

"Because those who turn to gods seek aid for the things they most fear. There is a battle brewing. You seek a way through it without conflict, or the strength to protect what matters."

His eyes go wide again and I gasp in shock. "Oh jesus Theo! I'm sorry. That was rude and presumptuous. Truly. I'm sorry."

He chuckles in a self depreciating manner and shakes his head. "Let this be a lesson to you. Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to. Definitely don't ask them of someone you know to be forthright and honest. You may not get the answer you want." 

I give him a half smile back. "Knowledge is a double edged sword?"

He raises his own water bottle in salute. "Don't ever forget it. The truth will forever change you. Not everyone welcomes that change." He pauses and looks at me. "Clara, whatever happens, I hope you will always feel safe enough in our friendship to tell me the truth."

I let that hang there for a moment studying him. I have a wealth of acquaintances, but friends are precious gems. If I am honest, of the last few weeks Theo had become one. If he truly wanted my honesty, the least I could do is give it.

"You have my word." 

We smile as we head back to finish unpacking his latest shipment


	7. The fateful encounter

Net’s Waters attracts a certain type of client. We get business execs, politicians, soccer moms and the like but they all share a common trait. They want to be or do more than their current lot in life. They are unfulfilled and want a change.

Maybe that's why I was so surprised when someone who was so different from my traditional clientele walks in as I am packing up after one of my classes. 

"So, you're Clara"

I look up at the gentle voice with a faint Irish lilt. 

"Ah. Yes. That'd be me." I tilt my head and look at him. He's maybe 5'10" tall, has shoulder length black hair that looks windswept. His features are angular and almost puckish with fair skin and clear blue eyes. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

He shakes his head. "No, but someone told me that you'd be the best person to help me beat a trial."

I raise a brow and look at him skeptically. I take note of how he carries himself, his clothing, his attitude and mannerisms. Nothing about his demeanor says stress or conflict. I can't find anything with him just standing there. I'd need to talk to him to find out more. "Beat a trial?"

"Aye, a physical challenge of a sort." The Irish lilt comes through again.

"We're about to change class. Let’s get out of here and someplace we can talk." I gesture to the door with my chin and grab my gear in my arms. When we get outside I look at him again. "I'm sorry, you are?"

He flashes a grin "You can call me Luke."

I narrow my eyes for a moment. I'm well aware he didn't answer my question. There is something about the way he phrased it that strikes me as just a bit evasive. I shake my head and decide I've been reading too many books. Just because someone doesn't say "My name is" doesn't mean they are hiding something.

"Tell you what Luke, if you can give me 10 minutes to recover from class and change, I'll buy you something to drink and you can tell me about your challenge, deal?"

He nods and smiles again. "Deal. Meet you in the coffee shop in ten minutes then?"

"Deal" I agree. He turns and I watch as he walks away. I make mental notes of his balance, any shift of shoulders or hips and how his feet strike as he walks. After leaves the office, I head to the showers to change.

Ten minutes later I saunter into the coffee shop and make my way to where he's sitting, drinking a coffee.

"I would have gotten that for you, you know."

"It's fine. You're doing me a favor by working me into your schedule. I thank you for taking the time."

I give him a half smile. "Luke, let me be honest with you. You're not the type that normally looks seeks me out. Certainly not the type that comes to me for help. You’ve got all the traits of someone who comes to me with a “I’m going to help rescue the little damsel and she’ll fall at my feet in gratitude” mentality. So please forgive me if I indulge my curiosity, why do you need my help?"

He laughs, seemingly not at all offended by my honesty. "Would you believe, I want to do a challenge that is like a", he pauses as if looking for the right word, "mud run."

I stop to consider and take a good look at him. He's built solidly. There is undeniable strength there but he's not built like a runner. His physique is built for endurance, not speed.  I take a slow sip from my drink.

"Honestly?" I ask.

“I don’t think you can be anything else.” He chuckles.

"Well at least you’ve picked up that much.” And isn’t offended by it, I add mentally. “You can finish a mud run without help. You have the physique for strength. You don't have any appreciable imbalances. You tend to lean a bit on your right side but that's just indicative of dominance, not imbalance. At a glance I can't see issues with shoulders. Your knees are fine as well. When you stand your right foot turns out a bit but that can easily be fixed with some corrective exercise or massage, depending on the underlying issue. It's so minor I'm practically nitpicking. So unless you are going for speed or agility I can't see what you'd need a trainer for. Unless..."

"Unless?" 

I look down at his feet and remember he's wearing slip on shoes and curse under my breath. "Well, I can't tell if you're having flexibility issues. Truthfully, these are all best guesses and I'd need an assessment to be certain, but that's my off the cuff observation."

"That's pretty detailed for 'off the cuff'" He says, slightly impressed.

I shrug. "You're here because someone told you I was a trainer. It's not my day job, but it teaches you to pay attention. How the body moves is indicative of the state of mind one is in.”

Luke grins. "I can see why people said you're good. That's a lot of information to pick up in our short time together. You're right. I do have need of speed and agility." He pauses and his grin turns lopsided "I'm plenty flexible enough."

My brain provides a quick retort but I bite my tongue and shake my head before I can give it voice.

Luke laughs. "Now I'm curious."

"Stay that way. I don't know you well enough to say it. So, let’s talk about this mud run. I don’t take personal training clients, but I know a few people."


	8. The shadows move

My conversation with Luke lasts for longer than expected. The way he describes this particular mud run, it was more like a multi day event over lots of terrain. I was beginning to think he was doing one of those 24 hour spartan races or something.

"So Luke, if I can arrange it, can you meet with someone today? Or are you booked?"

"Really? You'll help me?" The amazement in his voice shocks me for a moment.

"Well, I mean, not me particularly. But I know a guy. And this is going to cost you." I sigh and Luke looks at me curiously. I shrug. "I've kinda been skipping training and the guy I'm thinking of is the one who trains me."

He chuckles. "You mean you don't come up with your own training regimine?"

I snort derisively as I grab my phone and start firing off messages "I'm a pain in the ass student. Forever slacking and skipping class. My form needs work and I talk back. I would have fired me years ago."

"So why hasn't he?" My phone lights up and I read the response before flipping the phone around so he can read it "See you at 7. Bring your gloves."

"Apparently, he likes the challenge."

*****************************************************************************

With a name like "Final Judgement" you would expect this gym to be intimidating, but it looks something out of those old "American Gladiator" or "Ninja warrior" shows. There is a decided lack of treadmills and traditional equipment you'd see in typical gyms. Instead there are brightly colored obstacles, boxing rings and padded weapons. Even the free-weights have an almost cartoonish color scheme with each weight being a different color.

Seth, the owner, is as much a character as his gym. Standing about six foot, he's a fair-skinned and freckled black man. His red hair is close cropped in an almost military style.

I adjust my bag and pass through the lobby to the main floor with Luke following behind me.

"CLARA!" I wince. Anyone else would think that booming voice was greeting an old friend, but I hear the note of censure in it.

Fixing a bright smile on my face I turn "Hey Seth! Long time no see."

His only answer is a low hum and crossed arms before he wraps me into a hug. "I guess it has been! We have some work to do, but you've brought me a friend, have you?"

His eyes move to Luke and he leaves his arm casually draped over my shoulder as he introduces himself.

"I'm Seth. Any friend of Clara's is a friend of mine. But it doesn't mean my help comes cheap."

"Luke." Luke holds his hand out. Seth studies Luke for a moment before smiling.

"Clara. I'll show Luke around while you get changed. I'll meet you in the ring." He reaches out but instead of shaking hands, the two grab forearms like old warriors. I shake my head and walk towards the locker rooms.

"Go easy on me chief! I'm just a girl!" I call out over my shoulder. Seth's laugh follows me into the locker room.

Seth's eyes never left Luke. After Clara is out of earshot he asks "Does she know?"

Luke quirks a brow and smiles. "I should ask you the same question."

Seth shakes his head. "No. She doesn't. And she won't until she chooses to see it herself. But tell me, why is the great Lugh, the master of skills, coming to a human girl looking for help to train for a "mud run"?"

The mirth left Lugh's eyes and he studied the man in front of him. "I'm not coming to a human girl. I was told the human girl could introduce me to the god of thunder and storms. I need _your_ help. I need to get my spear back. It's been stolen."

Seth's eyes went wide and he let out a long, low whistle. "Come. Let's talk."


	9. Chapter 9

Seth leads the way to his office and shuts the door behind them. 

"How much time do we have?" Luke asks and glances at the clock on the wall.

Seth follows his gaze. "About 15 minutes if she is being generous. Then she'll come looking for me."

"Is this a safe place to talk?" Luke asks.

"No. Give me a minute"

Seth closes his eyes and the office fades away. As the illusion falls away they are standing in a training grounds. The ground hard packed earth, the air hot and dry. Along one side of the arena weapons are stored waiting for the next training rounds. There are bags of sand stacked neatly and wrestling rings. A chariot track encircles the whole training grounds

Where Luke was standing was a fair-skinned, blonde man. He was dressed in a red plaid kilt, leather knee high boots and a sword on his hip. Tattoos covered the left shoulder and upper arm. Where Seth stood, there was now a seven foot man with a jackal's head and squared off ears. His skin darkened slightly and when he opened them, his eyes were black.

"Cozy." Lugh looked around at the arena with a small smile.

"It's home." Set replied. "What's this about Gae Assail?"

"It's as I said. It was stolen. I can't call it so it's not on in the fae realm nor here."

"How?" Set's disbelief colored his voice. "That thing is more bloodthirsty than Sekhmet in full rage! How did someone not only take it from you, but make it off the plane without being killed by it?"

Lugh ran his hands through his hair in a gesture of frustration. "That's the worst part. I don't know. I honestly don't know. I had it, then I didn't. I think I know where it is, but I need to go get it."

"Alone?"

There was a short bark of mirthless laughter. "Can you think of anyone to go with me? I took one hell of a risk reaching out to you for help. If Queen Eogabal finds out, I'm in for centuries of pain."

Set rolled his eyes "We're of differing pantheons, we're not at war. Eogabal won't hear anything from me." He didn't bother to try to keep the exasperation out of his voice. "Where is it?"

"Tartarus."

"Wait. What? Why would it be on Tartarus?" 

"I don't know, but I assure you, I intend to find out. How much time do we have left?" 

Set hums thoughtfully "Not much, I'll get us back" He closes his eyes and the illusions shimmer back into place as if a mirage made solid and real as you got closer to it. When they were back in the office Seth speaks again "I'll help as much as I can. Equipment, planning, anything. You let me know and I'll do what I can." As he puts his hand on the door Luke speaks up.

"Wait!" Luke studies Seth for a moment. "Who is she?"

Seth glances at the clock before he looks back at Luke. "She's just a human." 

"You're lying."

"She's a human." Seth says in a tone that brooks no argument. "I will help you. Your secret is safe with me, but I make you this one promise." Seth levels a gaze at Luke. "If she comes to harm by your hand, you will pay my price, and I assure you, it will be heavy." He waits for the understanding to register on the other mans face. "Now, we're out of time and must go."

As Luke leaves the office with Seth, he watches the other man grab some gloves and joke with Clara. As he watches their sparring he can't help but wonder who is she, and why is he so hellbent on protecting her?


	10. When it all falls apart

I hadn't really thought about things after that. I went back to my schedule. I ran my center, checked in with Luke occasionally, helped Theo with his bookstore, drank way too much coffee at Suz's shop. I even managed to make it to more than a few of my scheduled training sessions at the gym. 

It had been a few weeks of this normal pace and I was working late on a few client cases when I heard a thump at the front of the office. A quick glance at the clock confirmed I should be the only one here but the sound was  _heavy._

Curiosity getting the better of me, I rounded my desk and made for the front door. 

Leaning against it was a man, black hair, fair-skinned, and when his clear blue eyes looked up, I breathed out his name "Luke!"

I tossed the deadbolt lock and bent down to help him up. "Jesus man! you look like someone beat the hell of you! Is anything broken? Can you walk? I'll call the paramedics. Just a second"

"Clara." His voice was hoarse and soft. "Clara!" he looked me in the eyes and sounded stronger this time. "No. Yes. In that order. I'll be fine. I'm sorry. I didn't know where else to go, so I came here."

His left eye is almost swollen shut from the bruise that is there. He's muddy, his clothes are torn in places and there is a stain coming on his right side. The way his arm is wrapped around himself as if to put pressure on it, I'm not sure that stain isn't getting worse. 

"Jesus Luke, come on. I can't have you out here." Crouching down I carefully sling his free arm over my shoulders and help him stand. His winces and the sweat on his brow tell me he's lying. He's a lot more hurt than he's letting on. 

"Look, I don't have anything other than a med kit. You turn into a zombie on me and, well hell, I can't even shoot you twice. so, yea. No turning into a zombie." 

His snort is followed up by a grimace and a groan of pain. "No laughing. Laughing bad." We slowly make our way to the break room. He protests every movement and I'm doing my best not to rush him.

"Luke, this is going to be  _very_ uncomfortable, but I need you to lay on the table or the floor, bud. I need the paramedics to be able to get a good look at you. 

Luke grunts and sits on the breakroom table before leaning back slowly, finally laying down and letting his eyes close. "Thank you, Clara" His whisper follows me around the room as I start grabbing supplies

"Don't you fall asleep on me! If you die, I'll kick your ass!" I grab my coat out of the break room closet and make a makeshift pillow out of it. I grab the medkit off the wall and consider - for a good 3 seconds - whether one of those "tear the shirt open like in the movies" moves would be a good idea before tossing it for the more practical "just move it and let the paramedics deal if they have to.

'Luke, buddy, I got to take a look under your shirt. I know you said you're fine. But I need to see. This stain is concerning me."

"Not. all. mine" came the groaned reply.

I don't know whether to laugh or be appalled at that statement. I settle on laughing. "Nice to know you can give as good as you get."

Gently moving his arm I push the shirt up and away from his side. There is a gash that goes from his hip to above his belly button and it is bleeding with every breath. "Ok Luke, med kit isn't going to cut this. I have to get help. I'll be right back."

Taking a quick glance I see his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. He may look like hell but I think I have enough time to grab my phone. I dash to my office, grab my phone and head back towards the break room. I start dialing 9-1 on my way back to the breakroom. When I look up, I realize there is a glow coming from where I left Luke. 

As I round the corner, there is a cat sitting there, next to him. The glow seems to be come from the two of them. It's warm, like a summer's day, comforting. It invites you to spread out a blanket and take a nap. 

As I stand there I see the cat lick his finger and his hand move to it's head and weakly start to pet it before falling still again. That's when the cat looked at me

"Do you want to help him, child?" The soft female voice was in my head. It had to be stress or shock. I was seeing and hearing things.

"Can you help him?" I heard myself ask.

"I can." Her eyes unblinking, she continued to look at me. 

"Will you help him?" 

"Why is it important to you?" there seemed to be genuine curiosity there.

I blinked. Twice. "Because he's hurt! Doesn't  _everyone_ want to help someone who's hurt?"

"Hardly." The scoff in her tone was hard to miss, but she turned back to Luke and liked his finger again. This time he didn't move. 

I looked up and that is when I realized the Luke I left in my breakroom was not the one I was looking at. He had shoulder length golden hair, still fair skinned, clad in a red kilt with leather boots. Had it not been for the garish wound in the same place, I would have not believed them to be the same person. 

"Who is he?" my phone fell from my hand as I tried to puzzle out what I was seeing. 

"Someone you want to help. Someone who is hurt. Come child. We've not much time."


	11. A blank no longer

Something in my logical mind was telling me that I was in shock and not doing anything constructive to help the man who was  _dying_ on my breakroom table. Something else, something bone deep instinctual, made my feet move until I was standing next to the two of them. I reached out and took Luke's hand gently.

"Luke isn't his name, is it?" 

"Oh it is, after a fashion." Replied the cat. "Now look at him, you have some choices to make. Make them quickly but do not be rash in the decisions."

I look him over from head to toe. The eye is bad, but I don't think he'll lose it. It can wait. I don't see any broken bones. Arms and shoulders are fine. The gash and bleeding are immediate concerns. He's covered with shallow cuts and bruises everywhere. He may have a sprained ankle. I'm not sure how I know, it just feels "off". 

"Good. You've made your choices. You can't heal everything. You have to do what you can and trust them to do the rest. Now, close your eyes and what do you see?"

Closing my eyes I see the three of us. But more than that I feel warm. The light and warmth are not coming from either of them. It seems to be centered around me. Well, instinct got me this far, so I give into the impulse to reach out and hold my hand over the gash in his side. 

It's not just a nasty cut. It's putrid. There's something here that doesn't belong. I furrow my brow as I think about pulling it, gently, out of the wound. The colors and the feeling changes. It's lighter, healthier. Good, now we just need to close it. I open my eyes again and with my hand still hovering over the wound, I move from the bottom to the top as if closing a zipper, and the wound seals behind. 

I look around for the cat and notice she's gone. A gasp has me looking back to Luke, worried that I missed something. His eyes are wide as he studies me. 

"Sekhmet?" That's the last thing I hear before searing pain from every part of my body courses through me, the lights go out and the world goes dark.

******************************************************************************************

"Tell me Lugh, what happened?" The lion headed goddess makes Clara comfortable on the very table Lugh was laying on mere moments before

"Uh, you first?" He managed. "I'll ask you, Set wouldn't tell me. Who is she?"

Sekhmet turned her unblinking stare on the Irish god and spoke in a measured, emotionless tone. "Tell me Lugh. What happened. Or I will tell Set what happened here."

Lugh blanched slightly and looked back at Clara. She had a nasty, half healed scar where his had been and she had light bruises everywhere, including around her eye. If she felt half what he had when he made it to her front door, she was in a world of pain. 

He sighed heavily. "I went to Tartarus." He looked back at Sekhmet and she blinked, once. It was the only indication she had heard what he said. But she was waiting, and he knew it. 

"I had to get my spear back. I knew it was on Tartarus." Lugh starts pacing, obviously frustrated. "Hell, I even had an idea where it was. It was supposed to be a simple smash and grab." 

"But your pride demanded you know who took your spear in the first place." Sekhmet's smooth voice stopped him. 

"Yes and no. I  _did_ want to know who took it. I  _might_ have even wanted a little payback for their insolence. And I thought I was prepared. I even asked Hades for permission to enter and exit. I had it all." He sighed.

"But?" She prodded.

"But, It was not only guarded by multiple titans," he paused, "they knew I was coming. They were ready for me. I was able to get to Gae Assail. I even took most of them down for their folly. But I hadn't counted on being ambushed on my way out."

"Who?" the question was almost a growl and a demand. 

"Crius" 

"Why would Crius want Gae Assail? What has he to gain? After centuries of no word no activity, why move now?"

"That's what I don't know." Lugh said dejectedly. "I don't know why he wanted it. I do know gods are missing. Some are presumed dead. And I don't think this was a coincidence." He looked back at Clara sleeping on the table before looking back at Sekhmet. "I'll ask you again. Who is she? Set swore she was 'just a human' but has a pretty vested interest in protecting her. And you, I swear she," his gaze was confused when it looked back at the goddess "was you when I woke up."

Sekhmet smiled when she looked at Clara. "She is Clara. A good person who wants to help others. She wanted to help you because it was "the right thing to do". She is protected by not one, but two, gods. Though she believes in no gods at all. And," she turned that same, half amused smile onto Lugh, "you could say she is my daughter."

**********************************************************************************************

I woke up on the breakroom table feeling like I had been hit by a Mac truck. Everything hurt, even my hair. It was like waking up with the worst damn hangover after the worst damn beating of your life. You really hope you did something fun to earn this, but you're really pretty certain you didn't. 

Sitting up slowly was my next goal. As soon as I was upright though, dizziness and nausea hit me and I was running to the bathroom. I don't know if it was pain making me sick, or something I had eaten, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I just wanted it over. 

It wasn't until I had splashed water on my face and felt a twinge in my left hip that I remembered Luke. I made my way back to the breakroom. My coat was bundled up as a pillow and there was another coat on the floor. Nothing was out of place. Everything was exactly how it should be. 

In a half daze I walked from the breakroom to the front door, carefully studying the floor the entire way. There were no muddy footprints, no stains of any kind. My clothes were rumpled, but you'd expect that from sleeping on a breakroom table all night. 

Was it all just a really vivid dream? It had to be. There was no other explanation. 

A tapping on the door brought my head up and I stumbled for a minute before getting stable again. Theo was holding a bag and two coffees. I walked over to unlock the door and let him in, but the door wasn't locked. I stared at it as he walked in. 

"you really should lock the door when you're here alone, you know." 

"Yea, you're right. I should. I don't know why I forgot." 

"Hey no worries. I figured you could use something to eat. Are you hungry?" He smiled and all of a sudden I realized I was actually *very* hungry. 

"Uh yea. I am. Thanks." As we walk back to the break room I try to shake the last remnants of the dream from my mind. 


End file.
